Yearly Archives: 2011

1. Enough talking about me; let’s talk about clothes! I’ve found a blog that covers all of James Bond’s clothes in the various movies, down to fit, cut, and sources: The Suits of James Bond

2. We also haven’t talked about space in a week. Here’s a site with some gorgeous pictures of the night sky from Earth–because the planet under our own feet is pretty incredible, too.

3. And, preemptively, Happy New Year! I hope 2012 is good to us all. 2011 was pretty great, all considered–I have actual muscles in my upper body, I have a house, and I have this guy to be an auntie to:(Hm, back to talking about me. But do you blame me for wanting to show this kid off?)

And finally, here’s this year’s final goal, which I marked as “optional.” It’s not a technical success but I made progress, I think.

+1. Go on a date.Friends and blog readers tried to help me with this one: A friend tried to facilitate an introduction with her father’s coworker; I asked an acquaintance to find out a client’s relationship status (’cause I’m professional like that); and I met a friend of another friend with a group of people in a bar as a potential set-up.

But there was no real one-on-one “getting to know you” date–although, for that matter, there wasn’t anyone I wanted to get to know better in the first place. (Other than the client. But he was in a relationship. Again, I am so professional.)

In November, in an effort to find someone I’d like to get to know, I created a profile on OK Cupid and answered lots of their questions. I liked the fact that they used math and data to determine matches (better living through science!). But such questions as “Do you see yourself getting married in the next three years?” and “How long do you want your next relationship to last?” made me realize I had no idea what I want.

So my inner hippie recited some Rilke and I decided I owed it to myself to figure out what I wanted first. I do think I’ll give the internet one more shot in 2012, but I’m in no rush. I’m good at being alone: I bought a house by myself; I climb mountains by myself.

3. Memorize 6 poems.Technically, I only have 4.5 memorized, as I’m still working on getting the middle of “Starlings in Winter” down and never found one I liked to replace the Neruda for September/October. But I’m still proud of the success–I’ve always had a hard time memorizing anything well, but this was easier than I thought it would be.

I have yet to recite them to anyone else (but just ask! you know I’m dying to be asked); instead, I say them to myself when I hike, or when I can’t sleep. There’s such a shift from reading them off a page–even aloud–to having the words come from your own brain. I may have to memorize more favorites.

2. Learn more sewing techniques.I’m not sure I can say I accomplished this one, at least concerning fancy techniques like bound buttonholes or pad stitching–but I realized it’s because I’m not a “process” sewer. I’m all about the finished product, and don’t like to be working on things that are so painstaking they take months to complete (for example, hand tailoring).

But there’s a lot of ground between basic sewing and hand tailoring, and I did use some fancier techniques on a few projects: flat felled seams in baby pants, a faced hem in the first tunic dress, a little pattern drafing to alter that same tunic dress pattern a few times– and let’s not forget lined drapes, either. So I don’t think I plateaued by any means. (But I still haven’t figured out how to use the serger.)

In other sewing news, I bought some Liberty of London fabric after a long time without fancy fabric and called it a Christmas/birthday gift to myself. Just two cuts to get me from winter into early spring:“Yoshie,” a print from winter 2010 (with tiny owls and horses and bunnies and hawks!)

and “Mitsi,” a standard print. Both will be dresses worn with colored tights.

1. Walk, bike, or do yoga once a week.Final verdict on this one: I like exercise! It makes me feel good! Anyone who hasn’t spent her life reading and/or in an office chair already knows this, but I’ve finally realizedit. So what have I been doing? A weekly hike (even in the cold! although I’ve only made it out twice this month so far) and yoga once or even twice a week. Yoga, of course, lets my inner hippie go wild; but I’m really seeing a lot of mental benefits, too. It also comforts the worrier in me, knowing that being old and alone holds a lot fewer terrors if you have muscle mass and crazy flexibility. As for hiking, buying a house by Millcreek wasn’t planned but I’m so glad I did. There are plenty of shorter trails that fit into a weekend schedule, but because the canyon’s pretty steep, you get a lot of exercise for your time. The terrain is varied, the views are great, and you get to see lots of happy dogs and generally nice owners. (Another bonus for solo hikers who worry: You can believe a dog will sniff you out pretty quickly should you fall off a trail or something.)

I haven’t ridden my bike much but I can always add MORE exercise in next year.

1. I have a half day to work today and then I’m off until January 4th, HOORAY. I’ll still be posting, though–I have reviews of the 3+1 Things to write and, of course, the 32 (approximate) Things to unveil.

2. Until then, Robert Earl Keene and I wish you a Merry Christmas from the Family:

Thank everything that’s holy and/or scientific–today is the winter solstice. We made it. We beat the dark. Only three months to the equinox.

This year I learned a phrase connected with the Roman sun god Sol Invictus, whose birthday was celebrated around the winter solsitce: Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, or “birthday of the unconquered sun.” So happy sun birthday to you–the old star hasn’t fizzled out!

Here’s something by Billy Collins, whose work I haven’t posted before. I like this one a lot.

The Christmas SparrowThe first thing I heard this morningwas a rapid, flapping sound, soft, insistent—

wings against glass as it turned outdownstairs where I saw a small birdrioting in the frame of a high window,trying to hurl itself throughthe enigma of glass into the spacious light.

Then a noise in the throat of the catwho was hunkered on the rugtold me how the bird had gotten inside,carried in on the cold nightthrough the flap of the basement door,and later released from the soft grip of teeth.

On a chair, I trapped its pulsationsin a shirt and got it to the door,so weightless it seemedto have vanished into the nest of cloth

But outside, when I uncupped my handsit burst into its element,dipping over the dormant gardenin a spasm of wingbeatsthen disappeared over a row of tall hemlocks.

For the rest of the day,I could feel its wild thrummingagainst my palms as I wondered aboutthe hours it must have spentpent in the shadows of that room,hidden in the spiky branchesof our decorated tree, breathing thereamong the metallic angels, ceramic apples, stars of yarn,its eyes wide open, like mine as I lie in bed tonightpicturing this rare, lucky sparrowtucked in a holly bush now,a light snow tumbling through the windless dark.

Here is a silk/mohair cowl thing I started back in the spring. Since it’s just a knitted tube (no pattern), I’ve had the knitting done since summer, but I hadn’t woven in the ends yet to make it ready to wear. I took ten minutes to do that last week and blammo, instant project:I wish the same thing could happen with my orange sweater!